Passion Play
by Izzy
Summary: AU: Vader is one of many servents to the Emperor, and Padme is an actress who catches his eye.
1. Act I

**Act 1  
By Izzy**

By the time Padme was fully in her costume, word has passed around that two special envoys of the Emperor would be in the audience. "I just hope they don't try to kill each other," Rabe commented. "It's annoying that you never know when they'll try to do that."

"I wish they weren't there at all," Padme replied, to which there wasn't much to say. They all agreed with her at least a little, though not all of them dared say it.

"Gotta go, I'm on." Of course she was. The dancers always were first onstage in an ancient Passion Play like the one they were performing tonight.

She heard the chatter of the audience die down, and the music start. She was on right after the dancers, so she left the crowd of actors who had gathered in the grove, out of the audience's sight, and moved to the edge of the arena. She would enter descending through the audience. She stood just outside the reach of the stage's lights; the dark night kept the audience from seeing her.

She could see them, however, and her eyes could not help but seek out the two envoys. They thought they were the two figures on the end of the aisle she was to come down, right in front of the stage. They wore black cloaks and hoods, and she supposed they really wouldn't be too much of a distraction, provided they kept quiet.

The prologue was over, and the dancers were hurrying out of the arena. All lights had faded, save that which illuminated her aisle.

"I have never understood the King," Padme started, stepping into the light. All eyes in the audience were on her.

"All know he is prone to such fits..." Step, step, step. She'd rehearsed it countless times, carefully timing her words and steps so she would reach the stage at the right point in the monologue.

Though all the audience looked at her, she kept her eyes focused on the stage, until she came to the front of the aisle. Then she looked down, intending to glance at the people on either side of her.

Her eyes met those of one of Emperor's envoys, who had removed his hood.

Like the eyes of all the envoys, they were an unnatural golden color, one that unsettled Padme in her soul. She couldn't look away; they were so intense. The face they were set in was burnished, hard, framed by golden hair. He looked the same way Padme felt: caught in some strange spell.

Time froze for a moment. Then nearly twenty years of professional training kicked in for Padme, and she turned away, hoping noone else had noticed anything, and finished her speech: "I know when I express my concerns to him it is all the people of this city who speak my words."

The Palo, who was the King in question, came in. She felt a little better then. Besides Palo being one of her closest friends, no longer being alone on the stage was always a relief to her.

"Princess of this city," he started as the lights came up, and most of the eyes in the arena moved from Padme to him. But Padme knew one pair had not. One pair which she thought she might feel on her for the rest of her life.


	2. Act II

**Act II  
By Izzy**

Everyone was shocked by the summons except Padme herself. She knew what the Emperor's envoy wanted, and she couldn't even say she was unwilling.

He was known as Lord Vader. She managed to pick up another thing or two about him before walking through his door: he'd been an envoy for only about a year, but was already close to the top of their pecking order. There were rumors too that his birth hadn't been normal, and that his mother had instead been impregnated by mystical means, but she was reserving judgement on that.

She bowed before him, and was almost smothered by the sense of power he radiated. Had he toned his presence down so as not to disturb the play, or was it that he had her, and he knew it?

"Padme Naberrie. I am Darth Vader. Have you heard of me?"

"I am merely an traveling actress, my lord," replied she. "I don't know the names of people like you."

"I would have everyone know your name. I would have them see you and adore you as I do."

"Lord Vader, you hardly know me," Padme protested, though she knew it was in vain.

"But I will," he insisted. "I knew it the moment I saw you standing at the edge of the arena, heard your voice. And surely you knew it when I removed my hood and you saw my face."

"Knew what?" she pleaded.

Boldly he lifted her into his arms and said, "The Force has spoken to both of us. Perhaps you can't hear it as well as me, but to a command this loud noone is deaf. We are made for each other." With that, he kissed her.

Padme would have thought that if she believed in the Force, and she wouldn't pledge to that even, she would not believe it would grant anyone to someone like Vader. She would have thought that if in that moment she was capable of thinking, or of anything besides frantically returning his kisses, sinking like a stone into his embrace, her skin and heart assaulted by unbearable heat. It was hard to protest his words when she wanted him more than she had wanted anything in her life.

Still, when they broke for air, she made one last feeble protest. "I can't."

"You can and you will."

There was nothing more to say. Vader led her, now unprotesting, to his bed.

Yet once there, they stood there for several minutes until Padme finally snapped, "What are you waiting for? You won't expect me to initiate this, at least?"

"Padme..." he started, stopped, and then started again, "Padme, you may not be aware of this, but these kind of relations are not...encouraged...by my Master."

"You've never done this before?" she demanded, shocked.

"I have not. Padme, I am not so foolish as to assume you have not. Teach me. Please." He grasped her head and forced her to look at him. "Show me."

Such beauty and such fire in his eyes, and she was kissing him again, initiating after all, and now it was he who was claimed by her, he who lay limp and passive as she lowered them both onto the bed, skillfully running her hands under his dark robes as he arched under her touch. His hands reached up, tore at the clasps of her dress, and she guided them around her body, which he grasped at like an animal.

With his robes removed and they were pressed skin to skin, Padme started to lose her ability to concentrate. But by now both were running on instinct. She took him into her body and he howled and came. He looked dismayed, but she only murmured to him, "We have all night."

In the hours following, she was proven right. Unable to keep their hands off each other, they spent almost the entire night entwined in wild passion, a haze of gasps and thrusts and cries and the rustling of the blankets as they were twisted and thrown every which way. Near morning they all but passed out.

Many hours later Padme woke up alone in Darth Vader's bed, her body still limp and sore and worn, and fled from his rooms in terror.


	3. Act III

**Act III  
By Izzy**

Both of the Emperor's envoys were expected to come and see the play again, and neither showed. Padme had the general feeling that either the second envoy had guessed what was going on and was trying to keep Vader away, or some genuine matter of business had risen which had both taken Vader off before she had woken and kept the envoys away that night. Either way, it was a great relief to her. How she could have performed in front of Vader that night she had no idea.

It was hard enough avoiding the questions of her castmates. They had guessed what Vader had wanted her for, and many had gone out of their way to offer her comfort. Comfort she did indeed need, but not for the reasons that they believed.

Nor did a summons arrive after the show, and Padme tried to hope that none would ever come, but that Vader would be hustled off Naboo by his companion, making everything easy.

She went to bed early that night, but after two hours of tossing and turning, she gave up on sleep, and instead sat on her bed reciting her lines.

"_The most powerful of monarchs may fail to see the seeds of revolt when they are laid deep enough, and even as he raves at the most recent open incident he may fail to notice the detail, thought insignificant by him, which in time will germinate like a seed, and bring him down-"_ She was cut off by the door knocking, and she knew who it was.

She threw on her heaviest robe, walked from her bedroom to her living space, and called, "Yes, Lord Vader?"

The door flung itself open, breaking from its frame and crashing into the wall besides. Behind it, Darth Vader smoldered at her, his anger overpowering even from across the room. "Why did you not come?"

For a fleeting moment, she was tempted to say she didn't think she was allowed, that he had to call her. That was now the easy way out, to throw herself back into his arms and let him forget this evening.

She was frightened now, because she could not run with him blocking the entrance. She should have run the previous night; she could have then. But it was too late to undo what was already done. The best she could do was reject him now. Even though she feared if she got too close she might give in again.

"Why?" he demanded again.

"Because I hate the Emperor," she answered. "I hate what he has done to my home, my world, and the galaxy I live in. I am no fool, my Lord. I know that as one of his servants, you may have the blood of thousands on your hands. Do you deny it?"

"I see no reason I should need to. Do you not remember what I told you last night? What you must know in your heart?"

"If the Force has handed me over to you, then I defy it! With all that I am. And who says we have not already served its purpose anyway? Perhaps there was no more purpose then for us to make a baby, did you think of that?"

"But if that is true, then why do I still burn for you?" he replied, striding across the room until he breathed on her face.

The scent of him was temptation beyond endurance. Padme backed into the corner, all too aware of her helplessness, not daring to breath.

"Why do you flee? Why do you fear me?"

"Why do you think?" she hissed. "You would destroy me."

This would not do. She forced herself to stand up straight, begged her heart to stop hammering.

"Have you nothing more to say?" he asked, and now he sounded nothing but broken, which perhaps he knew was a new attack on her, the same way his inexperience had been the previous night. Only knowing she had faced that attack before kept Padme from rushing to him.

"I could say many things," she said, but spoke no further.

"You are a fool!" he finally cried, and turned and stalked out, his dark robes billowing about the broken doorframe in what Padme hoped would be her last sight of him.

She thought it wouldn't be, though. His desire for her was too great. He would come back and try to win her again, at least a few more times. But now that she had withstood his first assault, she had the general feeling she would be able to resist all subsequent ones, however much it hurt.


	4. Act IV

**Act IV  
By Izzy**

A week and a half of no events, of performances which noone of importance came to, of going to sleep alone each night and even falling asleep after only an hour or so of tossing and turning the last night of the week and a half, lured Padme into complacency. On the last day, the failure of her period to come might have counted as an event, but that was a busy day, and so she had no time to contemplate the possible significance of that before it happened.

She slept for hours and hours, perhaps the Force telling her body to rest when it could and it obeying. She woke up her mind clear of thoughts. By force of will, she kept it blissfully empty while she showered and dressed, then walked into her living area and screamed at the sight of the cloaked and hooded figure standing in the middle of the room.

"You need not panic," said the figure, and the voice was not Vader's. It was much deeper, and very elegant, like that of an aged bard. The envoy removed his hood, and she saw a face to match the voice, despite his golden eyes. "I will not hurt you if you answer a few questions."

"Who are you?" she asked warily. She stared downwards, at his belt where lay his lightsaber; Vader had carried to same weapon.

"My name is Darth Tyranus, if you wish to know it. The rest, I believe, should be obvious."

"Questions. Why do you need to ask me anything? How could I possibly be of concern to you?"

His features drew together, angered. "Do not play games, Miss Padme. This business between you and Darth Vader must be cleared up. Did you know him at all before we came to the performance of your theater company?"

"No," answered Padme truthfully, hoping she wasn't doing Vader any harm. Especially because she'd heard that it was impossible to lie to one of the Emperor's envoys.

"When did you receive his summons?"

"That night."

"What _hour_?" he demanded, impatient.

"I don't know...the play had to be over by the tenth, it was maybe half an hour after that, maybe less, maybe more...oh the swamp take it, I don't know!"

"Did he admit to any such liaisons in the past? He has no history of behavior of this sort, but it may simply have escaped our notice. Did he strike you as experienced, Miss Padme?"

"He was a virgin," Padme answered. She saw no surprise on Tyranus' face.

"What did he inform you about the Emperor's policy on sexual relations?"

"That they weren't encouraged. If they were forbidden-"

"He spoke truthfully. All too much. Did he speak of love?"

"Oh yes, he did! And of fate and the Force and I would still swear that he meant it!"

Still no surprise, but she thought she saw his eyes darken. "Then he had indeed betrayed us in his heart from the beginning," he said, more to himself than to her. Fear for Vader gripped Padme's heart. _What have I just done?_ "Did he mention at this time any intention of leaving the Emperor's service?"

"No..." If he had, she might not have run so hastily.

"There is no summons on record for the following day. Is the record faulty?"

Padme tried not to answer this, suddenly afraid, but he glared at her, and she just shook her head. "Yet he came to you." She nodded, determined to give him no more information than he demanded. Soon, though, they would likely come to her opinions of the Emperor. The wild thought came to her head that if she could provoke him into killing her, she could give away no more information, and perhaps Vader could be saved punishment that way. But was it already too late for that? Would he now face death? She knew the Emperor often killed his minions when they displeased him.

"I assume in this meeting he informed you of his intention to desert, since he had not already done so."

"What?" There was no hiding her shock. "He...he didn't...but surely he...as far as I know he had no such intention." Surely it would had to have been her words that had spurred this. "What have you done to him?" _What have I done to him?_ "It wasn't him, it was me, I..."

"Miss Padme," he cut her off with a sharp gesture of the arm. As he did, as cylindrical object fell from his robes and rolled onto the floor near Padme's feet. "Stop now before you incriminate yourself. If you intend to somehow make things easier for him, it was too late for that even before this interview started."

Padme's eyes were locked on the lightsaber, before that was what it was. She knelt down and scooped it up. "This is his. I recognize it," she said feebly. "You killed him, didn't you?"

"He had turned his back on his Master," said Darth Tyranus coldly. "I had no choice."


	5. Act V

**Act V  
By Izzy**

Padme wondered if the Force had given her heart to Darth Vader solely to compel her into murdering Darth Tyranus. Then she thought that if she was pregnant, that had more likely than not been the Force's intended end result. Eventually she decided that she was done with explanations about causes and divine intentions.

Ordinarily she didn't think anyone could have done what she had done. The envoys of the Emperor were said to be skilled enough in telepathy to know when people were intending to kill them, and Darth Tyranus was known for his skill with the lightsaber. But when Padme had been standing with him looming over her, having just told her he'd killed Vader, clutching Vader's lightsaber tightly and trying not to cry or faint, her brain had given him no warning, because even as she lifted her hand and raised the lightsaber into position, she genuinely hadn't realized that she was going to kill the man until she had thumbed the switch and ignited the blade right through his heart.

Her rage finally taking her, and then gone in a heartbeat, emptying her soul of life as it went.

She hoped Tyranus wasn't wanted for anything that day. She herself wouldn't be missed until the evening, when she was supposed to show up for another performance of the play. By then she intended to be off Naboo and on a starship headed for the Outer Rim. Anywhere on the Outer Rim. It didn't matter where just yet.

She'd stayed just long enough in her apartment to get dressed and gather all her money. She'd taken Vader's lightsaber too, concealed in her cloak. It was said that only the Emperor's envoys could wield the weapons, but it was the only weapon on hand and she wasn't traveling around without one at the moment.

And yes, there was the emotional reason for keeping it too. Now that Vader was dead and she was safe from him, she could love him freely. She even felt no guilt over how her heart was torn in half by the grief.

She wouldn't have even cared if she had been caught and killed-as she certainly would be were she caught, if it wasn't for the possibility that she was pregnant.

If she was, she knew, then the baby would have the same powers as Vader. But he would not suffer his father's fate. She would see to that.

Everybody knew that the Emperor had wiped out the old Jedi Order, the only people who could have broken his reign of terror. But secretly, everybody also knew that a few of them had survived. You heard the stories every now and then. Someone swore up and down that he'd seen a known Jedi, or that someone in a fight in some shady bar deep in a city would suddenly break out a lightsaber, for the Jedi used them too, had been the first to do so in fact. It was said they were gathered in refuges which changed location every time they were spoken of, and that one day they would emerge and overthrow the Emperor.

In the spaceport, a heavy hood thrown over her head out of the fear of recognition by the wrong person, or by anyone at all, she walked amoung people and sat quietly, sometimes near those she had identified as holding tickets for the same transport as herself, but more often near others whom she would not get the chance to listen to again. She listened for any gossip, any remote hints, or where a Jedi might be found. A Jedi who could take her child and his father's lightsaber, and claim them both for the cause of restoring good to the galaxy. It was an absurd fancy, she knew, but she thought her child might just be the one to win them their victory. Certainly if the Emperor overlooked her and her baby, it would be all the worse for him.

She had nine months to find the Jedi. She wasn't sure how long she would live after giving birth, but she knew it would not be very long at all.


End file.
